‘Ah, yes,’ Laura said softly. ‘Kelly.’
‘Hey, don’t look at me,’ Kelly said, startled. ‘I’m not even royal.’
‘I’m sorry, my dear, but that’s where you’re wrong,’ Laura said sternly. ‘You were royal from the minute you married Kass. You were even more royal the moment you bore him a son. This is your country.’
‘It’s not my country.’
‘Someone has to take responsibility for it,’ she said sadly. ‘It’s impoverished. Everyone knows that. The industries need a complete overhaul-the farming techniques are antiquated. There’s money in the royal coffers to subsidise improvements, reform, but nothing’s done. So far there’s been little protest by the people. We have an extraordinarily accepting population. But now…’
‘Now what?’ Rafael said ominously and his mother kicked the stone wall some more and looked from Rafael to Kelly and back again.
‘Now there are three countries leading by example,’ she said. ‘Alp de Montez, Alp d’Estella and Alp d’Azuri. Three of the four principalities created all those centuries ago and almost destroyed by generation after generation of royalty who bled them dry with their own greed. Within the last few years each of these three countries have had their governments transformed. Each royal house has finally taken responsibility for their countries. They’re now run as true democracies with an overarching sovereign. Their industries are thriving. Tourists are attracted in droves and the people here are looking at their neighbours and asking why not us?’
‘They can do it,’ Rafael said nervously.
‘No, dear,
‘Not me,’ Kelly said,
‘Not me, either,’ Rafael said and his mother sighed.
‘That’s what Kass said.’
‘Mama, I’m only here because Kelly forced me to be here,’ Rafael growled. ‘To take this all on…’ He sounded bleak.
But there was a trace of acceptance in his voice, Kelly thought. There was more than a trace of his father in him. Despite his distaste for royalty, he’d agreed to meet this deputation tonight. She watched his face and thought yes, he’d do it. And it wasn’t just her blackmail that was making him commit.
He was no Kass.
But was Laura asking her to share?
‘I’m only here for my son,’ she whispered.
‘Do you think you can stay separate?’ Laura asked gently.
‘I think I don’t know anything,’ she whispered.
‘You’re a historian. You do the minimum amount of research on this place and you’ll find out what I say is the truth.’
‘So what do you want me to do about it?’
‘I think you should both be royal,’ Laura said gently and then, as Kelly stared at her in dismay, she shook her head, rueful.
‘Rafael, you know it’s what your father would have wanted. He hated what his father and his brother did to this country.’
‘I hated what they did to him,’ Rafael retorted.
‘It’s not the country’s fault. Nor is what Kass did to you the country’s fault, my dear,’ she told Kelly. ‘Do the research,’ she ordered and swung herself off her wall and opened the gate. ‘Make no promises yet. But think, my dears. Think, oh, think, of what the pair of you could achieve. Rafael, you’re due to meet the country’s representatives in half an hour. Kelly, if you could find it in you to help…’
‘I can’t.’
‘Just think about it,’ she demanded flatly, and disappeared into the house before either of them could reply.
Why had she come with Rafael and his mother, Kelly thought frantically as Laura disappeared. It meant she had to walk home alone with Rafael and he was making her nervous. He was big and silent and just…there.
He was as preoccupied as she was. Laura’s words were echoing in the night air. So much to take on board…
They walked slowly through the woodland path towards the stables. The castle loomed before them, vast and majestic. The night was warm and filled with scents from the garden-a magic night.
‘Is that a nightingale?’ she asked before she could help herself and Rafael paused and listened and then shrugged.
‘Yep. They’re common.’
‘Nightingales are common?’
‘It’s this whole damned fairy tale setting,’ he said morosely. ‘It does your head in. Like wearing a dress sword. I make toys. I don’t want to live in make-believe any more than I have to.’
‘I won’t live in make-believe.’
‘The problem is,’ he said, ‘it’s not make-believe. It’s real. Your son has to take over responsibility for this country and he’s five years old.’
‘My son needs to take over responsibility for this country in twenty years.’
‘Meaning you’re landing it fair in my corner.’
‘Yes,’ she said and walked on. Rafael stopped and stared at her.
‘You could at least sound guilty,’ he called and she turned and kept walking, but backwards so she could watch him in the moonlight.
‘Why should I feel guilty?’
‘If you hadn’t had Matty I wouldn’t be in this mess.’
‘Yes, you would. Some other woman would have had the heir to the throne. Kass would still have died and you might have got someone who wasn’t nicely determined to keep herself out of your way, out of trouble, out of sight.’
‘So during the coronation…’
‘I’ll watch,’ she conceded. ‘I’ll find myself a corner up the back.’
‘You look ridiculous in baggy sweaters,’ he said and she froze.
‘I beg your pardon.’
‘You’re meant to be royal. You looked fantastic in crinoline and hoops.’
‘And you look fantastic in your dress sword,’ she said. ‘But I was playing dress-ups for a reason that no longer exists. Your reasons keep going for another twenty years.’
‘Kelly, help me here.’
‘Help you do what?’
‘We can do it together,’ he said, pleading. ‘You can take some of the pressure from me. If you’ll play the princess…’
‘No.’
‘Kelly…’
‘No!’ She turned and stalked round the corner of the stables. And stopped.
Matty was walking towards them. He was in his pyjamas and bedroom slippers. He had his thumb in his mouth. He was walking determinedly towards the stables and he looked not even his full five years old.
‘Matty,’ she said and he looked up and saw them and froze.
‘It’s okay,’ she said quickly. Rafael came round the corner of the stables and paused beside her. ‘It’s okay, Matty. It’s only Rafael and me.’
‘I want to see Blaze,’ Matty whispered. He’d relaxed a little when he’d seen Rafael but he still sounded guilty.
‘Blaze?’
‘My papa’s horse,’ he said in a thread of a whisper. Then his voice firmed. ‘Blaze is my horse now. I thought about him while I was in Australia. I thought and thought. Papa’s dead. I don’t think anyone’s told Blaze.’
